Here is my first story. It works like this. For some chapters, you'll get the main story, usually romantic drivel. For other chapters, I'll write according to any prompts you might give me in your reviews. Those would be non-canon to this not-at-all AU universe, but they're fun nonetheless. Both types of updates will be clearly identified.
Behind The Honor: Chapter 1: Détente
Slowly Mikasa's eyes opened in the dark. Groggy, unaware, she instinctively groped to her side, then along her shoulder and her back, finally towards the edge of the bed behind her. Her hand pawed further and further about, trying to find something she might have lost. Something she was sure should be- she always kept it there- right... behind... her. In her dream hazed state, its name, its image failed to materialize. Where... Wha... What is it? Where is it...
She had been sleeping on her right side, curled in a ball. The hand beneath her, not currently searching, tugged at the red scarf she wore. No... That's not it... What was-?
"Hey. Hey... Don't strain yourself."
Surprised at the sound of the unforgettable voice, the girl heaved upright, or tried to, only managing it as far as half a sit-up before falling back against a soft bed. An ache spread through her side. She massaged the sore spot gently, running her fingers beneath her uniform jacket and over her white, long-sleeved shirt. It was a deep muscle ache, dull and lingering, just the kind she could ignore for the time being.
She blinked her eyes in the darkness, rolling onto her back as her hand resumed searching for something she couldn't see with her eyes. She grabbed a hold of something firm but yielding; a thigh. She had been so close to finding it, missing it by only a matter of inches. Briefly, the young woman debated giving it a light squeeze before deciding to slide her palm down to something less threatening, stopping on his knee.
She gave that a squeeze of gratitude. As she pulled her hand back, a gentle touch on the back of her finger sent a surprised shiver through her. And just like that, the moment had passed and her hand lay back at her side. The gentle sound of Eren's hand collapsing against his knee rocketed her thought process back into reality. He... He was trying to hold my hand? He was trying to hold my hand and I blew it? So stupid...
She could have cried. The cynical part of her told her that she was pathetic. There was a time when they couldn't stop holding hands. And now, now she was reduced to mentally begging for every little bit of contact she could glean from her foster-brother.
She could have put her hand right back where it was and grabbed for his. But she didn't. She could have asked him to comfort her. He might have done it. She could have told him how she felt about him, but she just didn't have the guts. She would have to be facing certain death before that ever happened.
She gave herself a mental shrug. There would be other opportunities. He was her family, her brother, and he would always be there. They would be together from now on. Forever.
He... He said that, didn't he? From now on, we would always be together? When did he-?
She shot up with a start, backing up against the headboard, eyes darting around the starlit room, looking anywhere but at the boy seated in the chair at her bedside.
"Mikasa?!" Eren's hand clamped onto her shoulder, "What's wrong? You shouldn't be sitting up yet. Your ribs..."
Her whole body began to shake. She remembered. It had taken certain death for her to confess her feelings. Only one problem remained, then. She wasn't dead.
Her body shook so hard that the blankets fell from her chest and legs, lying about her bare feet. Her scarf began to unwind from her neck when the dry-heaves came. Her head bobbed up and down between her knees to the sounds of choking, her black hair dangling and dancing to block out what little light filtered into the room.
She barely registered Eren's horrified reaction, nor did she take any notice when her crimson keepsake fell to her side. Eren climbed out of his seat and into the tiny bed with her, one leg dangling to the ground. Only when he draped his arm across her shoulders and pull her into an embrace did her body cease convulsing, stopping the way it had started, not of its own accord.
He began rubbing her back. She responded by nuzzling her head into his armpit. He hadn't bathed in at least a day, but strangely, she found she liked the smell. Still liked the smell, rather, of Eren just a hint of musk.
Suddenly, all thoughts of her death-bed confession evaporated.
"Eren, how long have you been here?" she asked, her speech muffled by his shirt.
"Um... Here?" he said, pointing down to the bed, "Or here here?" he finished, waving his hand about the room.
She slapped his chest lightly. "You know what I mean. In this room. Watching over me."
"I... Uh..." he stammered, then began making a show of counting his fingers, "Including bathroom trips or-"
"Eren Jeager! Answer me."
He grumbled something to himself, something inaudible that may have had the words 'not your little brother.' She was glad she missed it.
She sighed, preparing to sit up again when he inevitably pulled away from her in a huff. Instead, the most strange and miraculous thing happened. He pulled her into him even deeper, giving her shoulders a tight squeeze just for good measure.
Mikasa Ackerman could have died a happy woman right then and there. Her stomach fluttered and her heart pounded. She had had plenty of dreams about Eren before, and if she knew one thing for certain, this was no dream. Then that meant they were already dead. Except she had vivid memories of clutching herself tightly against her brother as he whisked her away to safety on horseback.
So what the hell is going on? Did Eren suffer some kind of affection-generating brain damage?
"Uh... It's been about twenty-four hours since I put you to bed, I guess," he answered.
Mikasa grabbed at his shirt and strained to look into his eyes. You've got to be kidding me. "What?"
"Yeah..." he shrugged, "I'd say it was this time last night- well morning- that we got back and I put you to bed."
"And you've been awake? This whole time? Looking over me?"
"You shouldn't have done that," she sighed, "I would have been fine either way, and you need your sleep. Did Armin bring you some food at least?"
"Why are you asking? You're the one that's hurt here, not me." he said, starting to pull away from her.
She sighed yet again. He was the same old Eren, then. No brain damage, though, so that was a plus. She sat up, putting her weight back against the headboard, rather than on the young man, conceding to the inevitable.
"And I did get food brought to me, but not by Armin," he said, looking away, "He should be back soon, though. He volunteered to spend a couple days on watch detail. Over her."
Mikasa expression darkened considerably. Her. The arrogant little psychopathic war criminal that couldn't decide whether she wanted to make out with Eren or kill him. So no one's strapped high explosives to her cocoon and made it rain bitch-dust yet? I guess they're leaving that honor for me, then. I accept.
"So, Sasha's been bringing me chow," he finished.
Still in a haze of anger, the young woman looked over at the boy. "Sasha? I'm surprised there was anything left by the time it got to you."
"Well, she may have had a little of my rations, I don't know..."
"You could have at least tried to take care of yourself," she said, "I'm not some fragile little doll. I'm not your baby sister, so you don't need to treat me like I am." Eren's words, coming out of my mouth. Interesting. Now I see where he's coming from.
Mikasa braced herself for the inevitable backlash. She had started it this time, and Eren was about to finish it. She knew what she had said wasn't a good idea, but it was her job to protect him, not the other way around.
Never mind that it was simply the absolute duty of the strong to protect the week- and no one could deny that she was far stronger than him- and never mind the fact that he was her only family and she had to protect him if she intended on keeping what little she had. She truly needed to protect him because he had done it for her, had saved her life against incredible odds and at phenomenal risk to his own. She owed him that protection and her life, from that point onwards.
And of course there was the little matter called love and how she had fallen so deeply into it with him.
"I know, Mikasa, I know," he said, reaching over to pat her shoulder.
Instead of pulling his hand away when he finished, he left it there, on her shoulder, then began kneading his fingers into her. There very idea that she had been the one to pull away from him, and then to have him reinitiate the contact, was so alien as to jar her mind.
After a moment's hesitation, Mikasa decided that could have melted right there on the spot. Her stomach fluttered again, the pounding in her chest returning. She tried to ignore the hand like it was a stray kitten just resting there. If she paid too much attention to it, it might decide to leave.
Instead, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation, willing it to stay. Was she worried about something? Angry? Upset? She couldn't remember anymore.
"It just felt nice, is all," he said.
Hmm? Nice? Yes, this is nice. What's he talking about?
"It felt so nice to be the one taking care of you, looking out for you, for once," he continued, while Mikasa hummed at what she thought were his natural pauses, "You know... It felt like I saved us back there. I needed that. And then to watch over you here, even though I'm sure I wasn't doing anything, it felt really, really nice... To think that I was still helping you. To recover or whatever."
"Mmmm Hmmm..." she mumbled, sitting perfectly still with her eyes closed, feeling his fingers and thumb as they massaged tender patterns into her skin.
"Mikasa, are you listening to me?"
"Mmmm Hm?" Her head shot to her left, taking in his aggravated expression, catching him just in time to see his eyes roll. "Yeah. Yes. I mean yes. I'm listening."
"Then what was I saying?" he asked.
Caught, she sputtered, "That, um, you..."
She looked over at him. His expression gave no hints as she struggled to find something, anything to say. She refused to admit that she hadn't been paying the slightest bit of attention to his ramblings. It was probably something about titans. That was always a safe bet.
Still though, there was a long shot that it wasn't, and there was no way she was going to be harangued by the boy if she guessed wrong.
"Those things you said... I understand." She glanced at the young man as his eyebrows rose incrementally, "The things..." The look on Eren's face told her it wasn't working. "That you said."
His hand began to pull away from her shoulder.
She slapped it back down to where it had been and wrapped her fingers around his, all on one motion. Where. The. Hell. Did that come from? Did I just-? Hurry up and apologize for the last thing he was upset about before you make this any more awkward.
"What I said," she began, looking into his eyes. He softened a bit, under her gaze. "What I said was wrong. I... Shouldn't have nagged you about watching over me. I'm glad I mean that much to you."
He reached over, cupping her ear before running his fingers through her hair. He capped it off by tussling the raven strands and letting his fingertips linger a bit on her scalp. Mikasa closed her eyes, squeezed his hand more, and almost lost control of herself amongst the sensations.
"You were listening, sorry," he said, reaching down to retrieve the scarf that she had forgotten about, "So you're okay now?"
"Mmm?" she opened her eyes looked over to him, "Oh, yeah, great actually. I think I'm fit enough to start training. You know I'm a fast healer. Why do you ask?"
"Well, Just a minute ago it looked like you were going into a seizure," her replied, bringing the scarf to her lap. He starting massaging her scalp with his fingertips and she tried not to purr.
Then what he said hit her. Her eyes grew side as saucers. Oh, damn...
"Eren, how much do you remember about what I said when we were facing down that smiling titan? What I did?"
His emerald eyes shifted from the top of her head to lock onto hers. He hesitated, just for an instant, but it was enough. He knew.
"Huh? Not a thing," he said with a shrug, "We were in combat. I was in an adrenaline haze. I don't remember a thing. Sorry."
She smiled. "Oh." Eren Jeager, I want to have sex with you really bad right now.
He brought the scarf up to her face and slowly coiled it around her neck. His touch was so gentle and careful; he was taking his time to make sure to do it just right, almost as if he wanted to prolong the experience.
Mikasa couldn't tell in the dim light to be sure, but when he finished, it looked like his hands might have been shaking. He bent down and kissed her on the forehead.
"You know," he said, getting up to leave the room, "I think I could do that forever."
Up next will be either another chapter in the main story featuring some Armin/Annie fluff, or it will be one of your prompts. I'll consider all prompts when I write, not just the most recent ones. If yours is M, I still might write it, but in another story.
Please review and maybe leave a prompt.